


The Switch

by Clueingforlooks221B



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Death Glare - Freeform, Deathglare, Fluff, Humor, OOC Hater, OOC Wander, Personality Swap, fluff & humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 00:27:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8266013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clueingforlooks221B/pseuds/Clueingforlooks221B
Summary: Based on @thewoychallenge's tumblr challenge #6: Mysterious personality swap! Now Wander feels dark/moody, and Hater loves everyone unconditionally.





	

**Author's Note:**

> In Latin mirandum glaream means astonishing gravel. I used it for the name of the rare stone that I imagine being triangular shaped, purple, and having black and gray sparkles. Anyways, enjoy!

The first sense that truly awakens is his smell, igniting his withering watering tastebuds. His vision splashes from obsidian to scarlet. An indicating factor, along with the thick click that breaks the serene silence, that his light has been turned on. The feeling of his limbs slither in, and he moans as he shifts positions. Wrapping his arm tighter around the pillow he mumbles incoherently at the force he can hear tiptoeing closer to his bed. Something’s rattling and Peepers wants to tell it to shut up, but he’s too lazy to form the words. Instead he settles for screaming them in his head. 

Sleep and fatigue glues his eye shut. Determination shoves against the impending power, wresting and leisurely winning the close fight between returning to slumber and waking up. 

He lightly thrashes in bed, limbs twitching and muffled groans being tugged out of his diaphragm. 

A low voice that is raked along a rigid throat dances in Peepers ears. “Peepers.” 

The commander shifts, digging his stiff eye deeper into his cotton pillow. His conscience strings together the thought of Lord Hater being a total utter annoyance. 

Wait a moment! 

Peepers jolts, back cracking as he shoots away from his pillow. He’s sitting up now, lids split apart as he blinks rapidly desperately trying to wake his other senses and clear his waxy vision. 

“Oh sorry, didn't mean to startle you.” Hater stage whispers, bent down so he is level with his commander. He is close to Peepers. Too close. Peepers backs up a tad, neck starting to protest at this action. It nags at him, pinching along the back of his shoulder blade and neck but Peepers ignores it. Besides, the apprehension in him is beginning to numb this. 

“Sir?!” He finally manages to gasp out over the broad stiff shock wedged tightly in his esophagus. His tiny chest heaves, all the air puffing out of him to leave his abandoned lungs sobbing. 

Reason floods in as he forces himself to take steady inhales of the blueberry crisp air. Wait blueberry? And maple? Warily he glances to Hater, whose eyes are shinning in an emotion Peepers can’t name. He’s seen this before on Hater, but not at all often. It’s rare. Where has he seen this? 

Wait Hater was up before Peepers? What time is it?! He chokes on a large gulp of air, “My alarm!” 

Besides him Hater calmly nods, “Oh yeah, I snuck in here earlier and turned it off.”   “What?! Sir why would you do that?! Oh grop what time…” His pupil darts to his clock, and the blinking numbers mock his anxiety. 7:36 A.M.! “I’m behind!” Two hours and thirty six minutes behind schedule! 

He throws the covers off his body, struggling as they wrap their giant arms around his torso. With one hand trying to pry them off, the other wildly searches blindly for his crimson boots. 

“No no no chill Peepers.” Hater rests his hand on Peepers palpitating chest, easily pushing him backwards. “Here let me help you.” His voice holds a lighter airier tone that shoves its way up Peepers spine, provoking uneasiness to plummet to the bottom of his hollow stomach. 

Help? His blood sinks, descending to temperatures in the negatives. “H-help?” He stutters out, unblinking as he watches Lord Hater kneel at his feet. Lord Hater kneeling! In front of him!   He can’t breath. Pulse faltering, the world stills around him. He fears he will pass out. 

There’s no way he's awake right now. 

Lord Hater, the Lord Hater, has just gripped his foot and is slipping his boot on for him! 

Sticky maple penetrates the cool air and Peepers knows that he can’t be imagining it. He’s been smelling blueberries and maple tangs since he’s woken up. It’s driving his crippled stomach crazy. Where is it coming from?

Is it Hater? Did he get some new kind of cologne? Peepers huffs, lids tilting upwards. Probably to attract woman or something stupid like that. 

Wait! This isn't at all right! “Erm sir, why are you up so early?” A hint of calmness is starting to flutter into his heart, settling it back to its regular tempo. 

“Oh!” Hater looks up, alabaster jaw hanging wide in a grin. Hater happy this early in the morning?! Scratch that Hater grinning at nothing but a question? 

Suspicion wears down his lids, causing them to narrow. What’s going on? What did Hater do? 

Hater turns to the side table, whipping a glistening pearl glass plate out in front of Peepers. The commander twitches backwards, the dangerously tall tower of waffles trembling and swaying towards his chest. 

There’s waffles lightly drizzled in blueberry syrup, bacon, eggs, a plain piece of toast, and a vine of dewy garnet grapes. 

The most strangest part? It looked good. More than good actually. There’s no way Hater cooked this on his own, the chef had to have done it. But even then it looks too perfect to be him… it even looked better than something Peepers could do. 

“Wow sir,” is all he can find himself saying. “Umm,” He doesn't even know what to ask first, settling for, “Did you get, erm, help on this? Not that you aren't a good chef! But this is a major improvement. And also, well, why?” 

Hater sets the ginormous warm plate on Peeper’s lap, sitting on the edge of the bed. He pulls a pale pink napkin out of the concealed pocket of his coat, and a fork and knife. He leans in close to Peepers, who starts to blanch in panic. Seriously what is going on?! 

Hater ties the napkin around the neck! He ties it! Inwardly Peepers lungs heave, lids frozen too afraid to even breath and break… whatever moment is occurring between the two of them. 

“Nope I found out the secret ingredient!” He hands the fork and knife to Peepers, who numbly grips them so tight his knuckles turn chiffon. His eyes look expectantly in between Peepers and the plate, pupils bouncing in excitement.    
The thought that Hater has poisoned this skips quickly across his mind, and he shakes his head to physically emit it. There’s no way Hater would do that! They’re pals after all! Right? 

Of course! With shaking hands he digs his fork and knife into the bottom of the waffle tower, taking a deep breath before taking the first bite. 

He doesn't even care if it’s poisoned. The waffle has the perfect hint of blueberry, and melts onto his tongue. It withers between each crevice of his tastebuds, staining them in absolute bliss even after he’s swallowed. He moans, rushing for another bite. His stomach has never felt so content, especially with just one bite. 

“Hmm?” Peepers inquires, not even caring anymore what the secret ingredient was nor if Hater even made this himself. It is astonishing! It’s the best meal Peepers has ever had. 

Hater nods, smiling wider than Peepers has seen in a long time. “Love!” 

The piece of bacon he has just indulged in halts, and he has to shove it down his throat. It fights hard to come back up, but looses. Luckily. He gags, stomach wrenching. “L-love?!” 

He had to mean loathe, right? 

“Yes Peepers because I love you!” Peepers fork and knife clatter, ringing harshly against the glass. They fall to his sheets, the fork gluing to them because of the syrup. 

“That’s why I decided to make you,” He nudges Peepers in his still chest. “breakfast this morning. You deserve it because you’re my best buddy and do such a great job around here! You always make such nerdy plans that work so well and make me look even awesomer. Nothing would be possible without you here, so I value you a lot. And you're a great supportive and loyal best friend!” 

Peepers lids hang open. For once in his life his mind is silent. Peepers knows he needs to say something, he doesn't want to discourage this behavior entirely. Yet at the same time Hater isn't even talking like himself! Something’s amiss here.. 

“Thank you, sir.” The edges of his eyes are dyed watermelon, not at all accustomed to this praise. Or really any praise at all. He swears at any moment he’ll end up with an eye full of an array of breakfast foods and mocking laughter ringing in his ears. His pupil remains small though, fear fueling his thoughts in the direction of why Lord Hater is acting so strange. 

“GAH YOU’RE JUST SO CUTE I CAN’T STAND IT!!” It takes a second for him to register Hater even screeched this at him. His lids hang open wider than they have ever before, the frigid air stinging his eye since he has left it open for so long. Nostalgia settles in his bones, remembering that almost identical phrase a certain wandering weirdo spewed a him on one of their first encounters. 

Hater pulls his hands down his own face. “IT’S NOT EVEN FAIR!” Peepers face is now flaming, boiling crimson bubbling on the surface of his eye. 

Yep there’s no way this is Lord Hater. 

“I’M SORRY I CAN’T HELP MYSELF!” The next words literally fly out of his mouth, smacking Peepers in his face as Hater rips the plate from his lap. Hater throws it on the nightstand, hard, and lunges at Peepers. He squeezes him, Peepers thrashing in his arms attempting to escape this madness. “No sir please!” He squeaks, but Hater won’t budge. He smudges their cheeks together, embracing a choking Peepers for far too long. “Sir control yourself.” He wheezes out, and Hater reluctantly lets him go. Dizzily Peepers crawls out of his lap, thrusting his helmet on in aggravation. His hands are anneal, trembling. Hater squeals behind him at the sight of the large helmet on his commander, his cuteness level going into overload for him between that and the red tint his eye has adapted. 

“Sir.” He huffs out, backing up to manage distance. Hater gets off his bed as Peepers stands, “Wait! You didn't finish your breakfast!”    
Peepers crosses his arms, glancing off to the side. “I’m not hungry anymore.” 

Hater stares down, wringing his hand. “I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you, I just wanted to make you feel as happy as you make me feel. Please don't let me get in the way of your breakfast, after all it is the most important meal of the day.” 

Through his long sigh all the frustration leaves, but the raw puzzlement remains. “It’s alright sir,” Hater continues to look down. “really.” Peepers adds firmly, prompting Hater to glance up at him through his lashes. “I’m just full but the meal made me, happy, it was the best meal I ever had.”   Hater sniffles, “Really?”

Peepers lids tilt up into a grin, “Of course sir! I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it. Besides,” He pulls out the necklace he got for Hater and him long ago that he has never taken off, “we’re best pals I already know that.” Peepers adds hesitantly, hoping maybe saying this will make Hater act normal again, “so don’t feel like you have to change or do anything crazy. I know you appreciate me. I mean telling me occasionally or saying thank you wouldn't hurt, but nothing too over the top.” 

Hater nods, grabbing the plate. “Awesome! Let’s go do something fun my awesomest best-est buddy that I love!” 

Well, that didn't work. Peepers warily smiles, a ball of trouble clogging his throat. Worry eats his brain cells, plaguing his reasonable thoughts and forming plans. There’s something really wrong with Hater. 

And when Peepers can’t confide it, he turns to medical help. 

“Sir, are you sure that you’re feeling okay?” Concern bleeds into his tone, staining the air in brisk apprehension. Breathing it in makes him feel suffocated. The atmosphere skips over his lungs completely, torrenting into his tight heart. It constricts around it, making Peepers wants to solve this issue as soon as possible to get the overwhelming feeling to dispatch. 

Hater’s skull nods rapidly, jaw hanging in a wide grin and eyes sparkling with that strange emotion again. “I’ve never felt better buddy!” 

“Erm okay sir. If you say so.” Peepers starts out his door and into the hall, debating whether to just let Hater continue acting like this and hope it fades or taking him to the ship’s medical base. Perhaps this is all just some stage or mood shift that will, hopefully, cease by tomorrow. 

Peepers didn't mind the praise, not at all. Heck, it’s all he’s ever wanted to hear since day one. And breakfast in bed! He never dared to fathom that in his wildest dreams, knowing that the chances of that ever happening was below zero. But now that it’s all occurring… it doesn't feel right. Something just isn't right and he can’t place what it is! That’s what frustrates him the most. 

Hater skips, literally skips, behind him. There’s a colossal bounce in his steps, and a wide beam on his face. It takes up the whole bottom of his face, and the blinding ivory makes Peepers pupil wince. 

He guesses it’s great Lord Hater is in a good mood. Maybe he will get more work done, and be more focused. But he’s emitting warmth that’s suffocating and, it’s just not right! 

“Wow Larry great work!” Commander Peepers halts, bones jumping from the sudden force of it. No way! 

Shock stilling his blood, he gradually moves his head looking at the scene unfolding behind him. Hater just complimented a watchdog. And he got his name right! Peepers didn't even know Hater knew any of their names!

The watchdog stops, the compliment registering making his lids dangle open. He looks behind himself, then back to Hater. “O-oh um thank you sir!” He squeaks out, eye squeezing shut as pure joy douses his warming blood. 

Hater nods, continuing on like nothing out of the ordinary happened. Peepers splutters behind him, and Larry blindly continues on in a daze. His mind is blank, not remembering what he had set off to do. Lord Hater knew his name! And said great work! 

“Pete! I just wanted to say thank you so much for taking the time to go out and get take-out food for everyone yesterday.” 

Peepers frowns, remembering the outburst clearly from the other day. Hater had demanded take-out and interrupted his meeting to get it. Clearly it had all been a distraction so he didn't have to listen to him talk. 

Pete blinks, and then blinks again. “Umm,” He looks from behind Hater to his commander for guidance. All Peepers offers him is an impassive glance, already fed up with this whole thing. So Hater’s going to be complimenting everyone now? He crosses his arms, looking off to the side.

“No problem at all sir.” Pete settles on saying that, desperate to get away from the boiling commander. The air around him is dark waves that reek of jealousy. Pete really doesn't feel like getting electrocuted today. He scampers off, running once he’s around the corner. 

Hater looks beside him, expecting to see Peepers there. When he doesn't he turns, looking to Peepers who is too busy buried in his thoughts to notice Pete is gone. He simpers, “Aww C Peeps don't be jealous!” He walks over to him, and the shrill voice cuts him from his thoughts. 

Peepers cringes as the hall is starting to get more crowded. The watchdogs around them are full blown staring in curiosity at them. All their lids are tilted, and some having the nerve to smirk. 

“W-what?!” Peepers jolts into action, starting to walk wanting to get away from all the literal prying eyes. “I’m not jealous.” He hisses to Hater, starting to walk briskly. 

Hater easily catches up with him by taking wider strides. “There’s no shame in being so it shows that you care!” Peepers shoulder jumps up to the bottom of his eye as he hisses again at that stark word. “But there’s no need for you to be,” he stage whispers, “because your my favorite, but don't tell anyone.” 

He lets loose airy giggles that fuel Peepers nerves. He glances up at him through narrowed lids, not being able to help but ask, “What about Captain Tim?” 

Hater grins, “Oh I love him too! Captain Tim and you are the greatest.” 

Momentarily Peepers stops, before rushing to continue on. Him? The greatest? 

“Sir did you need me?” Tim, whose nicknamed the lovable watchdog by all, skips besides Hater. 

“Oh no, but thank you for always being there for me anyways! You sure are an admirable watchdog!” Lord Hater gives him a thumbs up, and in mid skip Tim falls motionless. His lids vanish, and pupil shrinks drastically. 

It’s the first time Peepers has seen anything but a stupid grin on his cadets face. 

“Oh my grop sir..” He sways, gasping futilely before collapsing to the ground. His eye falls shut, pupil rolling to the back of his eye. 

Hater jumps, “Oh no Tim! He needs our help C Peeps.” 

Help?! “That’s it!!” His arm shoots out, gripping Hater’s forearm. From the death grip Hater’s bones slam to a stop, and he lunges backwards as Peepers starts to pull him away from Tim’s unconscious body. “But Peepers,” Hater whines, but his commander yells over his next syllabubs of forming words, “Nope! We’re going to the doctors.” 

Hater gasps, “The doctors? Oh no Peepers are you sick?!” Hater tugs Peepers, spinning him so he’s facing Hater. Peepers winces as the taunt skin of his arm starts to wail. Hater’s chartreuse eyes are soaked in concern, pupils scanning his face. 

No ones ever been concerned for him before. 

Peepers shoves Hater’s hand off his arm. The boiling concern attacks his face, burning it. It penetrates inside him, and he just can’t look at him anymore. “No I’m fine!” Hater sighs out in relief, “That’s a relief! I couldn't stand the thought of my best pal-“   Peeper waves his hand wildly, “Yes thank you sir! Actually, I want to go for you.” 

Hater blinks for the umpteenth time, face blank in puzzlement. Then barreling cackling bounces down the halls, booming, “Ha! Peepers I’m not sick!”   Peepers sighs, crossing his arms and glancing down at his shoes. “I know that sir,” kinda, he adds in his mind. “but I just want you to go in, for a checkup!” That sounds legit, right? He looks up at Hater, who has fallen silent. 

He grins, “Oh, okay if you want me to than I will.” 

Through his uneasiness Peepers smiles, “Thank you sir.” 

“After all I think it’s nice you want to make sure I’m healthy! You should get one too.” Hater slows his pace so that he steps in sync with Peepers. He tries hard to look his commander in his eye, but Peepers is avoiding eye contact. He nods at Hater’s statement, but Hater can tell he’s sidetracked. 

They pass the medical room, and Hater points this out, slowing his strut down. 

“This calls for more.. dire, medical attention.” Peepers continues to briskly walk, and Hater takes wider strides until he shortly catches up with him.   ——————

Of course Wander and Syliva are at the same doctor office Peepers just happens to chose. Where are they not now and days? It seems like everywhere he turns, there they are!   On instinct Peepers groans, a headache already starting to knock at his temples. He debates letting it in now and giving in, or locking his door to try to keep it at bay longer. 

Wait Wander! Peepers smirks, lids tilting. There’s no way Hater will be nice to that wandering weirdo! Why didn't he think of it earlier? It’s the perfect plan! His smirk grows as he slowly saunters into the small waiting room.

Sylvia mirrors Peepers, them both looking at their friends expectantly. Peepers expects Wander’s shrill voice to break the murmurs in the room, waving ecstatically and jumping up in his chair. He expects Hater to screech beside him, and groan. 

But none of that happens.   
 Sylvia’s face drops as her buddy still remains gloomy. His top lids are drawn halfway down across his eyes, and have darkened considerably to a deep raisin shade. He is slouched, and his arms remain tightly crossed over his chest. His hat is pulled down further, concealing his forehead and cascading dark shadows over his eyes.

Curiously Peepers makes his way over to the pair. Interesting… 

Hater shoots off, a blur of daisy as he tumbles into Wander. He lifts him up, squeezing him, “Wandey! Wow I can’t believe we’re both here!” 

Wander groans, “Ugh, lemme down.” He plops Wander back into the chair, who resumes the position he was just in.   His gaze penetrates into Sylvia next, who throw her hands out, “Oh no you-“ Hater cuts her off by embracing her. A deep oomph barrels up her throat, and she looks to Peepers in mild shock. Annoyance filters across her face the most. He drops her after some time, and plops on the chair besides Wander. 

Sylvia and Peepers both study them, murmuring, “Huh, it’s almost like they…” They make eye contact. “Switched places?!” 

Sylvia’s mouth hangs open, while a nervous giggle stumbles off the inside of Peeper’s lids. “No way, that would be ridiculous!” 

She shrugs, “Well it wouldn't be the craziest thing I’ve heard. Maybe they should go back to the doctor together?” 

Peepers sighs, “Yeah I guess.” He sits in the chair besides Sylvia, and she throws the clipboard of an insane amount of papers onto his lap. A yawn saunters out of her mouth, vibrating into the atmosphere. “Well you can pick up on that all then,” she waves her hand, motioning at the paper work. Her eyes slip shut and she settles the back of her head into the chair. “because I’m tired.” 

Peepers growls, and Sylvia’s smirk is the only indication that she’s listening to him. Groaning, he sets to work on the papers. He should've known not having to do any work today would be too good to be true. 

————

“Hmm,” The elderly doctor hovers over both of his patients, forming mute words that roll on his tongue. He nods his head, dark spots dancing on the back of his bald head with the movements. Hater’s eyes glisten up at him in wonderment and puzzlement, while Wander remains hunched over and impassive besides him. 

After some time of examining them he takes a leisurely step back, nodding. “Yes, yes I see.”

A long silence ensues, and with each passing moment Peepers and Sylvia get more and more fed up with this guy. They’ve been in here for what seems like hours at his slow very thorough check up, and both just wanted to know what is wrong already. 

“What?” Peepers caves first, fighting hard to keep his rocky tone polite. 

“Well they've switched places.” The doctor looks at him through his thick glasses frame, his mahogany eyes unblinking. 

Unanimously Peepers and Sylvia deadpan. “Okay yeah we gathered that, but how?” Sylvia’s words bite, but the doctor seems unfazed by it. Peepers doesn't know if he’s accustomed to be spoken to this way, or didn't feel it. 

He shrugs, “Well it could be anything really…” He waddles over to a large wooden bookshelf that’s cluttered in hundreds of books. They are suffocated in there like sardines, and Peepers doesn't even know how the man knows what books he has! His hands itch to organize it. 

To his astonishment the man goes directly for where the book he’s looking for is, calmly pulling the squeezed books around it away to get to it. The book is larger than the doctor’s head and coated in uneven shades of thick browns. 

He slams it on the table in front of Wander and Hater, dust spiraling around them. Wander sneezes once, before moaning once more. Hater just brushes the dirt from his shirt, continuing to grin. 

For good measures the man blows the dust off the cover, spreading even more dust that makes Peepers eye itch and Sylvia gag. The doctor calmly cleans his glasses with the end of his white prestigious coat, pushing them up all the way on his nose. “Now let’s see here.” He mumbles, starting to slowly peel his way through the thousands of pages the book consists of. At the same time Wander and Peepers groan, Sylvia throws her head back. “You’ve gotta be glorpin’ kidding me.” 

The pads of the doctors fingers are coated in a thick layer of dust, darkening to graphite with every flip of the page his finger travels. He stops at a page, and Sylvia and Peepers hold their breaths hoping it’s the right one. 

After several breaths he continues to flip pages, making Sylvia smack her head against the wall besides her and Peepers face palm. 

Soon he settles on another page, this time tracing the words with his pointer finger.   “Well given the spotted tongues,” Peepers and Sylvia’s eyes widen, a question skipping across both of their faces. Did you know about that? Spotted tongues? “I’d have to conquer that it was caused by the mirandum glaream. Since it crumbles easily and is normally covered in a thick layer of dust, it’s easy to accidentally consume. When two people do so around the same time, their personalities and, tastes if you will,” he chuckles at his pun but no one else laughs. Hater has a blank expression, thinking through the doctors statement trying to recall what’s so humorous about it. “Switch.” He continues. “Ohhh!” Hater jaw hangs open, before he starts laughing at the pun. 

The doctor grins at him, wrinkles forming around his pale lips. “Lucky for them they both consumed their’s around the same time. For most it can takes years until another person makes the same mistake, and leads to a very confusing 48 hours for the people around them.” 

Peepers flashbacks to the incident from yesterday. Hater had gone off after the mirandium glaream since Peepers needed it for power to fuel his latest ray. Wander, of course, went off after the rare stone too and between the both of them somehow ended up loosing it. When Peepers came into the mix Hater was demanding to know where Wander had hidden the stone on his person, and Wander was saying, “Well I thought you had it.” Hater then proceeded to explode while Peepers face palmed in the corner, and Hater rushed off screaming repeating how much he hates Wander.

Peepers nods, not at all surprised now that he’s thinking about it. “Well Hater never washes his hands… and wears his gloves 24/7.” 

“Gee I guess Wander didn't either.” Sylvia looks at Wander, sighing. His head hangs down, eyes screaming of disinterest. 

Then all of the elderly man’s crawled out words register in Peepers mind. “Hold on a minute! 48 hours?!”

The doctor gives a curt nod, “Yes, that is what I said I believe. That is not too bad though, considering it could be permanent.” Sylvia and Peepers cringe at that thought, and both their hearts stopping. “That is, I think it’s 48 hours,” The man hobbles back to his large book, finger slowly inching its way down the huge page. Peepers grinds his lids, growling. He holds his salty words at bay, but Wander releases his, “AUGH and you call yourself a doctor?!”   His black rimmed circular glasses slide down his round nose, “Well Mr. Wander, or I suppose Hater really,” he chuckles, “This is a pretty unusual case. Most don't have the need to touch or obtain this rare stone. Ah yes, here it is! Yep 48 hours, at the least.”   Sylvia gulps, dreading the answer to the question she is about to voice. “At the least?”   “Mmhmm the record for the most is three weeks.” The man shuts his book, dust soaring into the atmosphere around them.  Peepers roughly exhales, massaging the top of his lid with his fingers. It does nothing to quell his impending headache. 

“Cheer up C Peeps it’s not so bad! I’m sure it will ware off soon!” Lord Hater smiles and Peepers groans, turning away from the pure radiating image of happiness. 

“Yeah cheer up at least your not with mr. depressed and I hate everything.” Sylvia motions to Wander, who for the first time today straightens his spine and widens his eyes. “What did you say about me?!” Wander barks at her, but she ignores him. 

Peepers deadpans, “Well at least your not with everything is amazing and sunshine and rainbows and blah.” Peepers lids spit out the last part. 

Sylvia growls, raising her fists in challenge and cracking them. Peepers doesn't cower back, more than ready for a fight. His blood thickens, pumping harshly against his pulse. He’s filled with determination and the desperate need to blow some emotions off his chest.

“Well I’m afraid that’s all I can do for you. Either way, it will ware off naturally at some point.” The doctors voice cuts in between their almost fight, and they mutely agree to not beat each other up… today, that is.  “There’s no way to speed the process up?” Peepers lids tilt up in hopefulness, but it is immediately disintegrated at the horizontal shake of the doctor’s head.

“Nope afraid not. Oh yes!” The elder brightens, face growing less wrinkled for a moment. Hobbling over to one of his drawers, he pulls out a sparkly violet box. On the side scrawled out it reads Treat Box.“Good job today boys! Choose a present, but only one please.” He waggles his finger in warning and Hater’s pupils grow wide while Wander’s face drops more somehow.   Hater sticks his tongue out, pupils tangoing around all the different items as he debates. He settles on a lollipop, flashing the doctor a simper. “Ohh thank you doc!” 

Wander growls, picking through the items with the tips of his fingers. Almost as if he doesn't want to come into contact with them because he’s that disgusted by them. “All these stickers are lame.” 

“Oh d’you need help?” Hater prides into his personal space, starting to dig into the box again. He does so much wilder and harsher than Wander, who has now removed his hand entirely from it.   Peepers cringes while Sylvia cackles, raising her phone. “Don’t you dare zbornak.” Peepers is steaming, lids drawn down and covering half his face.

Hater grabs a glittery unicorn one. “Here ya go! This one’s pretty and is sure to turn that frown upside down!” He stabs it onto Wander’s chest. Wander gags, nauseated by the blinding sparkles and the majestical pony with a bedazzled horn. 

The doctor opens the gray heavy door for them, and Sylvia sticks by Wander while Peepers is the first to head out with a bouncing Hater in tow. He rips lollipop open. “Ohh blarpberry!” He starts to suck on it, moaning blissfully at the sugar attacking his tastebuds and staining his tongue blue. Wander, slouched, is the last to slowly creep out. 

“See you around optic nerd!” Sylvia bends, waiting for her pal to jump onto her back. After several seconds it becomes apparent Wander isn't going to do so. She looks at her friend, whose crossing his arms and staring at the opposite hallway wall. His hip is popped out, annunciating his sassiness. She lets loose a trembling laugh, “Hehe uh come on buddy.” Hesitantly, he gets on her back while mumbling, “I have legs too you know, I can walk.” Sylvia sighs, whipping her orbal juice out and surrounding them in a bubble. They fly off, neither of them looking back.

Hater skips down the hall ahead of his commander, urging him to follow. “Come on C Peeps let’s go do something fun!”   Peepers groans, “This is going to be a long day. And the next day. And maybe the next.” He cries, “I want change and this is what I get.” Wavered airy giggles that have the humor sucked out of them bubble up his throat. 

“Come on Peepers!” Peepers sighs, seeing as no other choice but to follow him into this descending madness.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback fuels me :) 
> 
> Tumblr: hatesgreat-bestvillian


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